


Out in the woods

by clickingStranger



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Uchiha Izuna Lives, Warring States Period (Naruto), after the founding of Konoha, no really this has minimal plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-24 10:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingStranger/pseuds/clickingStranger
Summary: Madara and Tobirama unexpectedly end up spending a night in the woods together, on their return from separate missions. It goes well. Really well, actually.This fic takes place in an AU where Izuna survived and the four of them founded Konoha together. Tensions between Tobirama and Madara are still high, but not nearly as bad as in canon.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 39
Kudos: 621





	1. Tobirama POV

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This is Why Tobirama Can't Get Anything Done](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14142450) by [notbug (KageKashu)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KageKashu/pseuds/notbug). 

> And here we have a PWP where I once again look at these two characters through the lens of "but how would their relationship change if they fucked"?
> 
> The plot is really bare-bones, enough to justify their being together at all. The first chapter is Tobirama POV and the second will be a re-telling of the same scene from Madara POV.  
This set-up was heavily inspired by the wonderful fic "This is why Tobirama can't get anything done" by Notbug, linked above. Be careful to read the warnings on that one before you dive in! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The leaves rustled wildly in the wind and from the impact of bodies on branches, slammed into trees by the backlash of the war fan. Tobirama deftly jumped over an incoming body and took out the shinobi who had been using it as cover with a well-placed kunai strike. He had to use a water wall to block the senbon flying at him next, and quickly produced three shadow clones to track the team sneaking away to the East as he turned to check on the fighting to the South.

Madara was brutal and efficient as always, not even sporting the grin he often wore when sparring with Hashirama or Izuna, just methodically taking out the enemy shinobi. It was still odd, unfamiliar, to see the Uchiha clan head in his full armour, carrying his giant weaponry, and know they were on the same side in the fight. That would take some getting used to, village or not.

Tobirama saw his clones return, carrying the corpses of the fleeing shinobi under their arms, and took advantage of the lull to focus on feeling out their surroundings. None of the enemy squad had managed an escape, and Madara was just finishing off the last attackers in quick blows next to him.

“It’s done, that was the last of them,” he said over his shoulder to the Uchiha, who nodded unsurprised. Madara pointed towards a small clearing and draped two of the bodies over his fan to card them over. Tobirama, not waiting to be instructed, grabbed two others and went ahead to use a minor earth jutsu to create the pit. His clones collected the rest of the bodies and they silently checked them over for useful weapons or scrolls.

“Looks like a team of mercenaries going for a hit,” he told Madara when he could find few things of value. There were two better dressed ones among the majority wearing patched clothes and armour, and they had carried higher quality blades, some of which he picked out to seal and take back to the village. Nothing to trace them with, though.

“You think one of the southern clans sent them after you?” Madara asked as he finished searching and pushed another body onto the pile, which the other shinobi promptly splashed with lighter fluid from his hip flask. He seemed unconcerned, despite having received what must have been a rather urgent message from Konoha, if it got him to drop his squad on their way back to the village and rush to find Tobirama who was returning from a solo mission.

“Or they were aiming for the blood money the Hoshigaki have on the Senju clan, and didn’t have a full set of information on me. It happens, outside of Fire Country.” It happened less and less as they gained in notoriety, as it became clear to all interested parties that the village and its built-in alliances would hold, and just what that would mean for the power balance in the area.

Madara was holding a booklet, a small thing built to be carried in the field, and skimming it with a deepening frown. “Or,” he said in his pensieve voice full of banked danger, “it was an attempt to lose Konoha the Daimyo’s favour, combined with the lack of intel.” He held out the book. “This is a list of noteworthy Konoha shinobi, badly put together but rather complete, so whoever made it must have a relatively strong spy network.” 

“They were looking for recognizable Konoha shinobi then,” Tobirama replied, following the thread, “And aiming to what? Capture me?” It was a ridiculous thought, the squad had been large and skilled enough to hassle him but not nearly enough to kill, nevermind capture. Was their information really that patchy? And how would this mission bring offence at court?

“More likely to stage an assassination,” Madara replied, stepping away from the bodies and towards the trees. “We have reason to believe one of them is the son of some distant cousin to the Daimyo. If they were planning to throw the cousin at you, then escape and claim you were on a mission to assassinate them, it would be troublesome to explain it away to the Daimyo.” Not unclever, for people who had so badly underestimated Tobirama’s skill and the range of his chakra sensing ability. None of the group had come close to escaping, not after Madara had jumped into the fray signalling to take them all down.

“Do we have a counter in place?” he asked, while Madara shot a targeted, extremely hot flame at the bodies until they all caught fire. “Since retrieving the relative, or his corpse, was not the option you went for.” The walls of the pit were high enough to keep it out of the nearest trees, and the forest around them was still blessedly empty for long stretches, so there was no need to guard the pyre.

“For now we ensure there are no traces left to identify,” Madara said as he stepped away from the pit, and Tobirama was glad to follow, uninterested in getting the smell of burning fat and meat in his hair. “Means we will be back in the morning to check the bones and bury what’s left.” Not that much would be left, Tobirama knew, but it was a standard precaution and his own paranoia would not allow him to forego it, so he didn’t even bother telling Madara off for giving instructions as though he’d take charge of this mission. 

They automatically headed towards a cabin left hidden near a rocky stream nearby, specifically for Konoha shinobi to shelter in on the way back from missions. Hashirama had insisted on peppering them throughout their territory, and they served well when missions ran long or the weather went bad. Thankfully this one was far enough that the smell of the pyre would not reach it. 

They’d return to the village tomorrow and he would find out how Izuna had traced this information. The younger Uchiha was an uncannily apt spy master, and Tobirama had quickly learned not to doubt his sources or his deductions when it came to information. Madara had also never hesitated to move on his younger brother’s word, even when lacking detail, and it felt a bit like this confidence in Izuna’s spy work was building a silent understanding between the two of them in the moment.

Certainly it was not common for them to work together in the field, and in the administrative offices they tended to either squabble over policies or avoid each other as a matter of fact. However now, in the middle of the forest and with them both a bit worn down from having just come off of separate missions, they fell into an unfamiliar tandem. It was the practiced ease of blooded shinobi, combined with the awareness of each other’s skill and the begrudging trust that had grown between them through two years of sharing a united front, a village and the drudgery of its administrative duties.

Still, Tobirama could not help but have all his senses focus on Madara beside him as they headed for the cabin. It was an ingrained wariness, the unavoidable knowledge of how this shinobi was so much more powerful than him, could choose to kill him at any moment - an instinctual reaction built up over a lifetime of war. The last years of peace had not managed to rid him of it quite yet. 

Madara was not an easy man to read, mostly silent and brooding when not erupting with rage. He’d been looking less tired as time passed and the village flourished, but there was something worn and weary in his eyes even now. Tobirama found he didn’t know how to deal with him outside of their offices and lacking Hashirama’s cheerful mediation.

Never having worked together in the field was one thing, but he realised now he’d never actually been alone with the Uchiha patriarch, not even in the administrative building. It was odd, the way his awareness of the other man heightened at the thought.

Once the small wooden cabin was in sight Tobirama allowed himself to feel the itchiness of his own skin, after the long mission and the fight at the end. He’d mostly had to make do with quickly washing in shallow rivers for the last two weeks and, while he was certainly used to it after a lifetime as a shinobi, the prospect of being clean was immensely attractive. He shot Madara a look.

“If I make a pool and fill it with river water, will you heat it up for us to have a proper bath?” he asked, half-expecting to get a grumpy rejection out of pettiness alone. Tobirama would have been able to heat the water himself, he had some basic fire jutsu. But he was unwilling to waste the chakra on a jutsu so opposite his main type for a frivolous pleasure, not to mention he would expose himself to attack by bathing alone. Madara, if he chose to join in on the bath, would implicitly provide support in case of attack.

Madara was also on his way back from a long mission, which went a long way to explaining the look the other shinobi shot the river near the cabin and then Tobirama himself, before answering, “Agreed. Make it a deep one.” Tobirama didn’t bother to reply anything to that. Obviously Madara had no place making demands or giving orders here, but it was also not worth it to start an argument with the temperamental man just when he was about to get his bath.

They made their way into the cabin and checked for any traps in and around it. It was tiny and plain, just an enclosed room with a fire pit, but so much better than camping outside in the woods. They made short work of laying out their supplies, sleeping bags and towels and some spare clothes from storage scrolls, and then ate bland but filling travel rations in silence.

After he was done eating, Tobirama immediately set about making the pool as discussed. It was basic jutsu and the chakra use would be worth it for the cleanliness and relaxation the bath promised. Once he was done filling in the sunken, limestone-walled pool he watched Madara blow a tightly contained flame into the water with interest. 

A useful technique, one he might have asked about if it came from anyone but Madara. But their relationship had never included the possibility for easy conversation, or any conversation really outside of political debates and clashes over administering the village, so he kept the curiosity to himself. 

Tobirama suspected that Madara had still not forgiven him for badly injuring Izuna that one time, back when the wars had still raged and he’d tested Hiraishin for the first time, but there was really no way to address that matter, so he didn’t try. It was good enough, having an alliance where each of them was sure the other wouldn’t kill them in the night. More than he would have dreamed of as a child, more than he’d imagined even when the village was being established.

It was in the same silence that they started disrobing, both still tense and high-strung from the fight, more than ready to wash the grime off and relax in the water. By the time he was naked and filling a pitcher with water to scrub himself down, Tobirama could feel Madara giving him a slow once-over from the side, as though to check him for visible injury. 

“Do you have everything needed for bathing? I have enough soap left to spare,” he asked, suddenly irritated with the tense silence and attention, determined to get some words out of Madara. Perhaps some forced politeness would get the man pissed enough to say whatever he had on his mind. Madara didn’t glare though, just indicated his small bundle of washcloth, soap and towel.

“I’ve bought some more supplies from a civilian village we passed through on the way back,” Madara answered in a level tone, seemingly unriled, as he scrubbed himself down efficiently. He had no blood on him, just bruises of the kind not worth worrying over, so Tobirama could not push any buttons by offering his healing abilities. 

Maybe the tension he felt was not between them, but stemming from Tobirama’s own strung-out nerves after a long mission and an unexpected attack. He was an experienced shinobi with a lifetime of war at his back, all too good at reading danger in the air, but he had never been that good at reading people. Not outside of battle at least. This was an unfamiliar situation to be in and he might well be projecting more onto the other man than what was really there. The thought just served to annoy him further.

Madara was washing his hair now, as Tobirama finished his own ablutions and stood up, rinsing a final time before getting in the water to soak. He felt eyes on him the whole time, unsubtle in the way only the Uchiha tended to be in their staring, and let his head lean backward demonstratively as he relaxed into the hot water. His bared throat was an obvious dare, and Madara’s gaze burned against the skin there.

Still the other shinobi said nothing, just finished washing his mass of hair and wrung it out, twisting it into a tail before climbing in the water after him. The low sigh he gave as he settled into the pool made Tobirama open his eyes, looking him over through the steam that rose between them. Madara’s half-lidded gaze met his and lingered, seeming to take him in.

“This was a good idea, Tobirama,” Madara said unexpectedly, sinking a bit deeper into the water. It took Tobirama a minute to absorb that, trying reflexively to find the sarcasm or double meaning underneath the apparent compliment. Madara was giving him nothing else, face still and unreadable, but it felt like the tension was rising up again between them.

“It’s not something I usually indulge in before a mission is over,” he decided to go with, in case Madara was gearing up to disparage his mission safety procedures. Tobirama’s success rate was high enough there could be nothing to complain of, but he knew that wouldn’t stop Madara from using even the appearance of fault as a lever if he was feeling petty. 

“Indeed, but we’re close enough to Konoha that we should make it back by tomorrow noon, and between the two of us the odds of someone getting close unnoticed are insignificant.” Madara said it in an even, relaxed tone, as though he hadn’t been indirectly complimenting Tobirama with those words, and gave him another look. It was impossible to tell what he was aiming for, but Tobirama knew this man enough to know he never did anything without a purpose.

They watched the steam curl up above them for a bit, and Tobirama felt the water slowly work to relax his aching muscles the same way being clean had taken some of the edge off his mood earlier. The sounds of the forest around were soothing, and he felt no shinobi chakra around for two hours’ worth of a run. It was not quite enough to fully disperse the stress and adrenaline from the previous fight, but it got close. 

Madara was shifting his shoulder back and forth around across from him, making soft swishing noises with his arm in the water, before he finally turned to Tobirama to say, “I think I tore a muscle in my sword arm.” His tone was oddly lacking in irritation at the discovery, and it was highly unusual for him to turn to Tobirama for assistance with something like that. That was clearly what he was doing though, his dark eyes fixed on Tobirama’s face. 

Not unnatural to do it, though. They were comrades in the end and Madara had come into the fight to aid him earlier, it was normal to expect to get field support in return. Tobirama had already done as much for other Uchiha he had had missions with, and while his aid had rarely been gracefully received, they did receive it and they had returned it fairly whenever needed.

This was no different, he told himself, and shifted to his knees to approach Madara, who was still looking right at him the entire time. Unwilling to get up and expose his upper body to the cold air, Tobirama shuffled over on his knees until he was sitting seiza by Madara’s right side and looked the arm over.

“Which movements are limited?” he asked, following the shift of muscles in Madara’s thick shoulder and upper arm as he turned towards him. Madara lifted his hand without apparent effort, reaching up with it unhesitatingly, and Tobirama was so focused on following the movement that he barely reacted as he felt the palm brush against his jaw. 

He froze in place as it caught up to him, suddenly aware of how close he was to the other shinobi, sitting on his own legs like a fool, well within striking range and with Madara’s hand near his throat. He’d seen Madara snap enemy shinobi’s throats one-handed enough times to be well-aware of the potential there, and to know not even his speed would get him out of this in time, if Madara had for some reason decided to kill him there and then.

But that made no sense, not after the day they’d had. Madara could have just taken him down together with the attackers and carried his corpse back to Konoha, pretending mission failure, if killing Tobirama had been his aim all along. He had no reason to delay the kill, nor any solid benefit to draw from Tobirama’s death, so it had to be something else. He made a quick choice to wait it out, see what Madara meant by all this before starting a fight.

Just then, Madara moved his hand to take Tobirama by the chin and tilt his face up so they were eye to eye. This close up, the steam did nothing to hide those dark Uchiha eyes, and Madara was giving him an intense, scrutinising look. Tobirama could feel his pulse pick up in fear, trained into him from a young age, as he waited to see if the black eyes would turn red. 

Madara must have felt the quickening heartbeat, with his hand on Tobirama’s chin tightening reflexively. But all he did was lift Tobirama’s face even higher as he leaned closer, tilting his own face to the side and Tobirama slammed his eyes shut on reflex. Damn it, he still couldn’t make himself stare down the Uchiha clan head, not even after all these years. Then his mind blanked when he felt warm, moist lips pressing against his own mouth.

Tobirama took a sharp breath in through the nose but didn’t otherwise move, trying to catch his bearings as Madara pulled back from the kiss. He didn’t pull back far though, just enough for Tobirama to feel breath´running across his suddenly oversensitive mouth. Their eyes locked together and he realised with some surprise he was no longer expecting to see the Sharingan, as though the unexpected move had cleared the field. Not that Tobirama could figure out what this was about, but it didn’t seem to be a plot of attack in any case.

“Alright?” Madara asked, nonsensically. All was absolutely not right, but before Tobirama could devise a strategy to find out what was happening and regain control of the situation, the hand holding his chin slid across his jawline to cup his cheek and he was being kissed again. Madara pushed further into it this time, moving his mouth slowly in exploration.

Not ready to push him back and weary of starting a fight, Tobirama accepted the kiss as he tried to pull himself together. Madara pulled back for a second, only to lean in and kiss him a few more times in quick succession, and it felt like the air was growing hotter between their bodies. Was this what the previous tension had been all about?

It wasn’t a bad feeling though, not at all, and Tobirama found himself tempted to lean into it. And why not, after all? Madara was playing this game with some determination, why not figure out where it would lead, instead of jerking back and letting the arrogant man have the upper hand by showing nervousness. Tobirama didn’t feel like hearing the mocking tone Madara liked to take when he was feeling smug and superior, not right now.

He kissed back finally, slow movements of lips on lips and Madara apparently took it as permission to go ahead, licking ticklishly across Tobirama’s lower lip before sliding his tongue deep into his mouth. The sensation was intense, as though heightened by the wariness Tobirama carried and the adrenaline they both hadn’t worked out yet. 

Their breaths were mingling and Madara’s other hand came up to caress his shoulder as the man turned fully to face him where he sat. Tobirama let his own hands come up, stroking across the broad chest and shoulders, one arm reaching over Madara’s shoulder to sink his fingers into heavy wet hair. He tasted of smoke and chakra, the way his hair smelt after a mission, and Tobirama was surprised to find he did not dislike it.

“I suppose your arm is fine, then,” he said resentfully once the kissing stopped. His own breathy voice was slightly embarrassing, but not too much so, given how dazed Madara himself looked with their kisses. 

“Not the finest subterfuge I ever came up with, but you have to admit it worked out favourably,” Madara replied, gathering himself enough to give a satisfied smirk. The smug bastard had an arm around Tobirama’s waist and was caressing his back even as they spoke. Tobirama considered telling him off, or demanding an explanation, but it looked more and more like no explanation was needed.

This was post-fight stress relief, and while he’d never expected Uchiha fucking Madara to reach out like this, now that it was happening he was surprised to find he did not disagree with the thought. Madara was certainly handsome, and to say he was an attractively powerful fighter was an understatement of proportions. Shinobi were as drawn to power as anyone else, if not more, and this was most likely the strongest man Tobirama would ever get to touch so intimately.

Decision made, Tobirama leaned forward and saw the grin grow even wider on Madara’s face. The Uchiha showed teeth as he bent his head to the side to kiss at Tobirama’s neck this time, and he could feel Madara’s pulse speed up slightly under the hand he still had on the man’s chest as he tilted his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to be kissed and nipped softly.

His breath was coming in short by the time Madara pulled back to look him over, satisfied with his work and already easy with the situation. His hands were roaming across Tobirama’s back and flanks, obviously hungry for the feeling of flesh and life, and Tobirama was doing the same in return. 

Madara’s skin was scarred and pale, hot from the water, and strands of hair separated from the mass falling down his back to stick glossy and slick to his torso, drawing the eye. Touching him felt forbidden, as though he were a man to be admired from a distance instead of being held close like this. Tobirama was feeling pleasantly daring as he ran his hands over this man, former enemy, current ally and one of the two strongest shinobi in their world.

“You’re all pink from the heat,” Madara said, voice gruff and eyes dark as they roamed over Tobirama’s face and chest, “and your skin is so soft, how the fuck is your skin so soft,” he continued nonsensically as his eyes took in all of Tobirama that he could see above the water. Then he slid his hands to Tobirama’s waist and lifted him up a bit, unhesitating in his wanting to see more of him.

Tobirama was unusually pale-skinned even compared to an Uchiha. He’d always known this about himself of course, but now, up close and looking at the stark contrast between his own forearms and Madara’s shoulders, it stood out even more. He must look like a ghost in the twilight, but Madara didn’t seem to mind his appearance. Seemed fascinated by it, rather than repulsed.

Tobirama drew in a sharp breath when he felt the hand that had been travelling up his flank in a firm caress stop high on his ribcage, and a thumb brushed deliberately against his nipple. He was sensitive there, and Madara focused in on the spot with his methodical attention, pushing the skin under the nipple up and down, pressing his thumb lightly against its tip to roll it and finally looking back to meet Tobirama’s eyes, gaze heavy with lust.

“They’re so pretty, Tobirama,” he breathed out in a raspy voice, soft and deep and molten. “Can I kiss them?” It came out pleading, and Tobirama felt fire shooting down his spine. Already distracted with the proceedings, he just about drowned in embarrassed lust at the way Madara phrased his request. 

Such filthy words, and all he could do in return was nod, face growing even hotter in the cool evening air. He’d never had a lover try this kind of talk before, and wouldn’t have thought he might enjoy it. Maybe he wouldn’t, with anyone else. Certainly he wasn’t used to allowing his partners this much access to his body at first, but it seemed Madara was a special case, in this as in other parts of Tobirama’s life.

Madara leaned forward without any other remarks, and he barely got to see the dark head lowering before he could feel a hot wet mouth closing in on one nipple, tongue licking hard across it before sucking it firmly. He gasped, and heard himself and didn’t care, the sensation went straight to his balls and he could feel every hair on his body rise up, electrified. Madara put an arm around his waist to draw him closer, then raised a hand to play with the other nipple while he sucked and nibbled gently on the one in his mouth.

Tobirama gasped and moaned and let himself melt into the sensation. His body was so warm, not just from the water but from the touches and kisses and Madara’s own body, held close against his, alive with promise. The other shinobi’s chakra was roiling in what must have been lust, washing over Tobirama like waves on a shore and enhancing the sensation until he felt overwhelmed by Madara’s passion.

“You taste so good,” Madara whispered right into his chest, before switching his mouth to the other nipple and leaving the first, now hard and wet, to tighten even further in the cold night air. He quickly switched arms around Tobirama and brought his hand up, pointer finger delicately pushing down on the hard nipple, and Tobirama closed his eyes and moaned at the renewed sensation. His cock was throbbing, his fingers scratching lightly at Madara’s back and scalp, and he let his mind go blank. Madara would take care of this, was obviously and confidently taking charge, and Tobirama felt for once that he did not mind.

When the arm around his waist loosened and a hand stroked down his spine, down to cup his ass, fingertips running across the thin skin between thigh and buttock, he didn't mind. And when Madara finally pulled his mouth off his nipples to sit up straight, looking him in the face, and lifted him from under his ass to pull him closer and sit him astride one of his thighs, he didn’t mind that either. 

This close, he could lean in for a kiss again and received it from swollen lips, tongues sliding together filthy and artless. “Do you like to be kissed, Tobirama?” Madara asked, nonsensically as he could plainly see the answer, but Tobirama was enjoying this too much to break the mood by giving a snappish answer.

Instead he took his turn to bite at the other man’s ear and whisper his answer into it on a breath, “You kiss well.” Madara groaned, and curled the hand he had on Tobirama’s ass to fit his hand around a buttock, fingers slipping into his crease. He ran them across the crease and pressed them against Tobirama’s entrance with intent, in massaging circular movements.

“Do you like to be fucked, too?” Madara continued, dark eyes burning on Tobirama’s face even through the haze of lust. He hesitated for a second. That seemed like a lot of hassle, in the middle of a mission and with a man he’d never thought of in this way before. But then again, everything Madara did so far had felt so good, and his own mind was overridden with lust in a pleasant way he found he didn’t wish to end yet.

“I might… enjoy that,” he breathed in response, letting himself go with it. Such an odd feeling, with this man, but he was not the only one immersed in the moment, and they were comrades after all. This trust was permissible. Madara gave him a slow, blooming grin for that one, dark eyes drooping even more as he pulled Tobirama close for a wet kiss.

It felt amazing, and one of Madara’s strong thighs was riding over his own so he ran his hand up it in exploration, reaching Madara’s hip, his firm abdomen. His hand brushed against Madara’s hard cock and it drew a groan from the man, and he wrapped his fingers around it carefully. It was heavy and thick, he felt as he stroked it leisurely. It would stretch him quite a bit.

As though reading his thoughts, Madara pushed two of the fingers he had been using to massage Tobirama’s entrance inside him in a smooth press. He keened with the feeling of being opened up so suddenly, but he’d been relaxed and the water eased most of the friction, so it didn’t burn. Madara didn’t move them back and forth, just curled them and kept flexing, and Tobirama matched his own hand to the moves.

It felt good, so good to have something inside him, as though the words from earlier had made him long to be filled. He rocked his hips just a little, carefully, and Madara groaned with it, pressing his face to Tobirama’s temple and peppering some kisses along the edge of his eye, over his hair. They rocked together slightly, pushed their hips close enough that their cocks brushed together and they both moaned at the sensation. Tobirama was leaning onto Madara for balance by now, dizzy with the build-up.

“I have some oil with my bathing things,” Madara said, short of breath and voice rough with lust. Tobirama realised he hadn’t even considered that, had pretty much accepted that he would be using some healing jutsu on himself after, and it had seemed like a reasonable price to pay. Still, it was good of Madara to think of slick, and so he contained his groan of disappointment as the fingers inside him were pulled back, and readily left his position atop Madara’s thigh. 

After they detangled their legs, Madara stood, reached for his bundle of bathing supplies and pulled out a flask of oil, likely meant to be used for scars or hair or both. It would work well enough, but as Madara came back to him he realised it would mean he’d have to be out of the bath. 

With a sigh, Tobirama stood up in the water, and Madara’s eyes immediately ran up and down his body appreciatively. It was not an unpleasant reaction to garner, and he stepped closer to press his full body along the other man’s as they kissed again. He enjoyed running his hands down Madara’s broad back and across his shoulders from this angle, and their cocks pressed together between their bellies in a very pleasant way.

Madara thrust his hips gently a few times before asking, “Will you bend over the side of the pool for me, Tobirama?” and the way he said his name felt incredibly erotic. It sent shivers down Tobirama’s spine in the best way, suddenly, to have those eyes raking over his body, staring straight into his, to feel hands follow in their paths and know he had Madara’s full attention.

“You’ll have to keep me warm then,” he said with a teasing smirk, getting into the game, and turned around to do as requested. He bent over and pressed his forearms to the ground, and his ass lifted in the air as if he were presenting. Warm water lapped at his thighs and he felt incredibly exposed like this, waiting for a beat or two before Madara’s hands cupped his hips, then one hand ran up and down his spine as though exploring the sight of his laid out body.

“Gorgeous,” Madara breathed, “you’re so good for me, so perfect,” and he couldn’t even properly bristle at being called obedient before he heard the flask uncorking behind him and fingers immediately pressed into him, slick and relentless. He was already loose from the previous touching, and Madara wasn’t pausing at all, just kept pressing in, this time pumping his two fingers in and out rhythmically and twisting them a little between thrusts. 

Tobirama groaned and took it, the stimulation driving him wild, and moaned when a third finger joined the other two. It felt so full, and he relaxed into it as Madara kept up the pace and held him steady with the hand on his hip. Suddenly he was bending over Tobirama’s back, pressing kissed up his back from just over where his fingers were working him open and climbing higher and higher, mouthing at the knobs of his spine. 

By the time Madara was kissing his shoulder blades Tobirama was keening with every movement of his hand, and pushing his ass back against the fingers. He felt a bit foolish, suddenly, moaning like a cat in heat on this shinobi’s hand, perfectly unable to return the favour from his current position. “Are you ever going to get your cock inside me?” he gasped out, face red with lust and pleasure and humiliation, “or do you plan to finish me off like this?” 

Madara growled and chuckled at the same time somehow, an unhinged noise, and bit into the meat of Tobirama’s shoulder near his neck. His fingers paused though, before his arm moved in a few hard, punishing pumps, and Tobirama gasped at the feeling of having his prostate stimulated so directly as the angle changed. 

“Oh I’m going to fuck you, don’t you worry,” Madara said darkly, voice heavy with lust, and started pulling his fingers out. Thankfully he was going about it slowly, not just yanking them out, and Tobirama felt the drag across his rim all the way up his body as Madara kept talking, “I’ll fuck you so well you won’t be able to string a sentence together anymore, just wait.” His tone was as promising as his cock, pressed against Tobirama’s hip and throbbing.

Once the fingers were out, Madara pulled him encouragingly backwards by the hip and, as Tobirama straightened and turned around to face him, gave him another deep, lingering kiss. It was filthy now, their tongues running along one another in the open air as they gasped and moaned, and Madara wrapped his oil-slick hand around Tobirama’s cock to give him a few pumps before letting go in a tease.

“I want to see your face,” was all the explanation Madara gave before bending his knees to get low and grabbing Tobirama under the thighs, pulling him up by the legs. As his parted legs went up around Madara he wrapped them around the other man’s waist on reflex, and the hands under his thighs pulled him up easily. For a long second Tobirama thought he would get fucked like that, legs around the waist of a man standing up, exposed to the cold night air.

Madara could do it, too, this much he knew without a doubt, Madara had more than the physical strength required to lift Tobirama’s slighter weight and hold him still, thrust into him, even bounce him up and down on that cock. It was a heady thought, even as he felt galled by the mental image of being used like that, but that wasn’t how Madara went about it.

Instead, what he did was lower them into the water again, with Tobirama’s legs still wrapped around him, and lift his hips to position over his cock. Enveloped by the warm water once more, it was easier to stay relaxed as he moved to accommodate Madara’s movements and settled himself properly. When he felt pressure at his entrance, he met Madara’s eyes purposefully before lowering himself down onto the stretching heat.

It felt so good, after all the teasing and expectations, to finally have a cock pushing inside him. The oil held well under water, thick and coating, and he felt himself opening smoothly under Madara’s girth. His muscles twinged just a bit, just enough to make the pleasure stark against it, and the fullness and drag against his rim shot sparks up his body and made his balls tighten with it. When the backs of his thighs finally pressed firm against Madara’s lap and he was as far down as he could go, he breathed out and let his eyes slip shut, enjoying the fullness and pressure.

Madara groaned and refused to close his eyes, gaze fixed on Tobirama’s face, hands digging into his hips. His breath fell harsh and hot across Tobirama’s skin, a welcome reminder of their closeness, and Madara leaned in to press kisses all over his jaw and cheeks.

“You’re so gorgeous, and all mine,” he was saying and Tobirama could feel his lips move against oversensitive skin. He held on to Madara’s shoulders, wrapped around him and feeling him everywhere. Madara’s arms went around his back again, caressing and exploring him as Madara kissed his mouth, and they both adjusted.

Tobirama wasn’t sure who moved first, but their hips were rocking soon, pulling and pushing in tandem to get more stimulation. His cock swayed in the water and he braced on Madara’s shoulders to pull himself up, up on the other man’s own cock until just the head was still inside, and then let himself slip back down carefully. They were both moaning, still making eye contact, and Madara had him by the waist again, rising to grind into him with a groan when he was fully seated.

They did that again a few times before Madara seemed to lose patience and grab Tobirama by the hips, pulling him down faster, thrusting up to meet him with splashes of water and desperate gasps. He groaned, and called “Madara…” not knowing what he wanted to ask, just that he wanted more. 

Madara seemed to understand, and pushed harder, put more grind into the movements and Tobirama followed, entire body flexing as he got on his knees around Madara to brace more solidly and put strength into the movements. In response, Madara took one hand off his hip to wrap around his cock and stroke him in pace with their fucking.Tobirama felt for a second like he was blinded by pleasure, mind white with it.

Madara still held him by one hip while he jerked him off with his other hand, hips working and coming up to meet Tobirama’s downwards thrusts. Kisses were laid gasping and breathless across his face and he kissed back desperately, grasping at Madara’s shoulders, one hand fisted in his hair. Soon enough they were both just moving and breathing and pushing into each other, wet and careless.

Moaning with each thrust, feeling as though his body were on fire and moving between the pleasure in his ass as Madara hit his prostate with every thrust, and the pull in his cock as it was jerked to match, the fullness and passion of it, Tobirama knew he couldn’t last much longer. It looked a lot like Madara was just as far along, face red and sweaty and mouth biting more than kissing, as if hungry for him.

It only took a few more thrusts, building the pleasure higher and higher, before Tobirama screamed and came, fingers digging into Madara’s back, into his hair, completely lost to the sensation. Madara leaned down to bite into the meat of his shoulder as he froze in pleasure, kept thrusting up in rhythm and stroked him through it, only letting go of his cock when it was over.

Then, with a groan, Madara grabbed his hips with both hands and held him still, suspended, and thrust several times harshly into his body. Tobirama held on and made himself open his eyes to watch this man lose his breath in orgasm, pressing bruises into him which were returned in kind.

He must have slumped over afterwards, as he found himself leaning into Madara and carefully pulling his fingernails out of where they’d imbedded into the other’s back. He could feel no shame at his previous display, though, not through the bone-deep relaxation of the orgasm he’d just had. Not to mention that Madara had been at least as demonstrative as Tobirama himself, if it came down to it. 

Tobirama turned his face to the side as he leaned down to rest a cheek on Madara’s shoulder unashamedly, bending over to be able to reach. Madara was stroking his lower back, unhurried, and turned to look him in the eyes again. He didn’t speak for a minute, and they were both enjoying the silence of the nighttime woods.

With only a slight flinch of discomfort, Tobirama felt Madara’s softened cock slip out of him below the surface of the now lukewarm water. The oil had held up well enough, and he knew he’d be only pleasantly sore tomorrow to remember this by. Some of Madara’s more daring words of the night flashed through his thoughts but he was too comfortable to be more than a little annoyed by them. Not something he thought he might like to hear in the heat of the moment, but he had been strangely quick to sink into the lull of sex and dirty talking.

Madara was leaning in to kiss him again and he welcomed it, lips across his cheek and temple feeling so nice after the sex they’d shared. His own hand rubbed into the roots of Madara’s hair and massaged his scalp, the other one running across his upper arm to feel the muscle there, rolling under his skin.

“You could have just asked, you know,” he complained tiredly, glad to feel Madara’s arms pull him closer as they enjoyed the afterglow. “It would have saved us that silly display.” Madara chuckled at that, deep and amused and seeming energized by the sex, rather that tired from it and his previous mission.

“You would have blushed and protested a bit, I imagine,” he replied, “but I couldn’t be sure of it then, and you’re not an easy man to approach.” That was fair, so Tobirama didn’t protest anymore, and only grumbled minimally when Madara manhandled him to the side and stood to his feet, reaching to help him up in turn.

“The pout is adorable, I’ll admit, but our water is getting cold and you can’t fall asleep in there,” Madara instructed with an amused tone, which helped wake Tobirama up through irritation alone. He climbed out of the tub with minimal fuss and went to dry himself with his travel towel.

“No need to sound so smug, Madara,” he threw back, but not sharply, he was much too satiated to reach for a real argumentative tone. “I’m sure you must be feeling quite tired yourself by now.” 

And Madara had the nerve to grin at him, the smug bastard, when he answered, “Yes, I’m not going to claim you didn’t wear me out, Tobirama,” with such a self-satisfied look that he might as well have been saying it after all. It was annoying, but Tobirama was tired and his body felt more relaxed than it had in weeks, if not months. He was going to bed.

Once inside, Madara was quick to take their travel futons and lay them down together, edges overlapping just a bit. They layered the covers in the same manner, and lay down to sleep with their shoulders pressed together, Madara’s hair wrapped in a towel and raised out of the way. There might have been some more kissing to close off the night.

In the morning they would return to Konoha and deal with whatever issue had led to his ambush earlier, bring it to Hashirama, find a solution. Tomorrow, Madara would go back to being the Uchiha clan head, but perhaps a less distant and untrusted comrade now that they had shared this much intimacy with neither of them taking advantage of the other’s distraction.

But for tonight, they were friendly shinobi who had shared a fight and a fuck, and were now sharing their shelter and body heat for the night. It felt good, in a physical way only another person’s body could and in the warm way that acceptance and safety provided. It felt stronger than that, because this was Uchiha Madara, one of the strongest shinobi in the world and certainly the most complicated asshole who had ever lived, who now shared his bed and whose breaths he could hear right beside him.

Perhaps tomorrow could bring more than information gathering and a return home, he thought, near asleep. He could get to know this man a bit closer now, maybe, after having known him this closely tonight.


	2. Madara POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, the same scene from Madara's POV. He's a very different person from Tobirama, and in my headcanon the Uchiha and Senju overall are quite different in their social interactions. That plus their complete failure to use their words led to a bit of a misundestanding, but they resolve it quick enough ;)
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely feedback on chapter 1!

Frowning his annoyance at the pire, Madara watched his flames engulf the mercenaries until he could be sure they’d all burn properly, then headed for the cover of the forest. His mission had gone satisfyingly and he’d even had the chance to meet some reasonably competent shinobi to fight, and he’d been bound to set foot in Konoha by sundown before Izuna’s eagle reached him with the letter. Urgent intervention needed.

Tobirama had been engaging the troupe of reasonably skilled shinobi by the time he got there, and he’d helped make sure none of them actually managed to escape. He couldn’t wait to find out what harebrained plot was behind this attack, Madara thought grouchily to himself. Probably some idiots cooking up years-long plans spanning several countries, but somehow unable to see the truth right in front of their noses. 

The peace and the village they had worked to build didn't rest on the good-will of the Daimyo, nor on good relations with the neighbouring clans. No, it rested squarely on Madara and Hashirama’s shoulders. They’d brute-forced the game and strong-armed the entire fire country into this peace. And then they’d smacked down move after move to oppose the peace between Uchiha and Senju through the force of their chakra and the loyalty of their clans. 

But that was too terrifying a scenario for some idiots to contemplate, so they preferred to devise endless strategies to dig claws into the foundations of Konoha, as though Madara would so easily stand back and let his dream crumble. Luckily he was not on this guard alone, though, and Izuna was there to uncover the idiotic plots before they managed to give him even more of a headache.

Tobirama walked in silence beside him, the Senju ghost looking weary and miffed with the interruption to his own return from a solo job. Madara could sympathise. They had to stick around for the night, now, and guarding a pyre from the dubious comfort of a wooden hut was a far step down from sleeping in their own beds tonight.

“If I make a pool and fill it with river water, will you heat it up for us to have a proper bath?” Tobirama suddenly asked, and that sounded like a brilliant idea. Madara couldn’t even muster his usual irritation with the younger man’s bland, constantly skeptical-seeming tone. He had been looking forward to being clean again all day, and had been immensely pissed at losing the perspective with this stupid interruption.

The river near the cabin would have been an unpleasant dip, but it could serve for a water source if Tobirama was willing to shape a pool for it. “Agreed. Make it a deep one,” he answered, looking forward to the soak more and more. It would be a good way to relax and, honestly, he was rather interested in the implied opportunity to see more of Tobirama’s pale skin.

He’d noticed himself stealing glimpses of Hashirama’s little brother more and more as Konoha was being built, and Tobirama proved himself to be not just a genius shinobi but a good administrator, indispensable in the newly-formed village. Not to mention he had a mouth on him, much like his goofy older brother if significantly sharper in tone, and an amusing pouting face to go with his angry scowls.

Madara was sorely lacking in people who dared stand up to him ever since he’d consolidated his position as the Uchiha clan head, at least outside of his close kin. Rolling over the opposition to the village at Hashirama’s side, but without the benefit of his idiot friend’s charm and easygoing nature, had pretty much ensured no one dared raise their voice at him or contradict him anymore. Sadly this also applied to his own clan, most of who’d grown distant in their respect, even with Izuna’s bratty attitude to lead the other way.

Having Tobirama unafraid to look him in the face and call him out was a relief, even if the man was maddeningly stubborn and far too convinced of his own, often biased, schemes. It had made Madara look, and he liked what he saw. He liked the quick mind, the faithful loyalty and the skills, even liked the man’s odd, startling appearance, so unlike the usual Senju looks, as though Tobirama were some fox bride in a fairy tale.

So as they went inside and deposited their things, and he ate rations for dinner for the fifth day in a row, Madara allowed himself to consider the other shinobi more closely. Tobirama was closed off to most people as a matter of fact, snappish and short, but that didn’t have to mean he was wholly uninterested in intimacy. Particularly after he’d relaxed in the bath.

Once they were set up and went back outside, Madara admired the way Tobirama, with no apparent effort, shaped a nicely squared pool and filled it with clear river water. The walls were smooth, non-absorbent so no mud formed, not even when he heated the water up with a fire arrow to the centre. Water boiled for a second before the heat dispersed throughout the pool, steam rising invitingly over it.

As though taking that for a signal, Tobirama started undressing to his left and Madara turned to look, unbidden, as he was undoing his own belt. The man was slim and pale as expected, with scars in pale pink and white visible on his unusual skin. Madara had seen him in short sleeves before, but never bare. They’d never been on missions long enough for them to bathe together before. 

“Do you have everything needed for bathing? I have enough soap left to spare,” Tobirama offered, squinting at him a bit, and Madara got the last of his own clothes out of the way and pointed to his things.

“I’ve bought some more supplies from a civilian village we passed through on the way back,” he answered, thinking also of the scentless oil he’d gotten there to try and tame his hair in the wet climate. But that was getting ahead of himself a bit, even as his eyes flitted back to Tobirama’s trim waist and long legs, the way the water he’d splashed across himself made his white skin glimmer in the sunset light.

The man washed efficiently and Madara quickly followed, glad to be rid of the day’s grime. His hair took longer, but he wanted it clean and fresh again badly enough to take the time to wash it properly. Meanwhile Tobirama finished, and climbed into the hot water before him, all pale and blurry with the steam.

As though in a dare or in invitation, Tobirama settled down and turned to him, met his eyes, then let his head loll backwards where he was leaning against the side of the pool. His neck was long and pale, slender, its form delicate in a way unusual to shinobi like them, and Madara suddenly wanted to  _ bite _ . It was hard not to switch his sharingan on, get a better look and burn this pretty image into his head, but he knew from experience not to expect Tobirama to appreciate such a move. It was not worth breaking the relatively peaceful mood for.

He rinsed his hair out, squeezed what water he could from the base, and got up to join Tobirama in the pool. It was hot and immensely relaxing, the hard earth walls having absorbed enough of the heat to be comfortable against his skin. Madara leaned back against the side of the pool opposite Tobirama and looked at him again through the mist. His pointy fox face was relaxed, mouth slightly open, shoulders soft and round. He’d never looked like this before, not in front of Madara.

“This was a good idea, Tobirama,” Madara said as he let himself sink deeper into the water, feeling it lap at the top of his chest and drain the battle tension from his back. Tobirama’s gaze sharpened on him like it tended to do, his already narrow red eyes squinting suspiciously. 

“It’s not something I usually indulge in before a mission is over,” he replied shortly, as though he’d somehow managed to take offence at Madara’s praise. Senju could be dramatic sometimes, and Tobirama appeared to relish being as obstinate as he could at all times.

Madara suppressed his own reflexive glower at that, and chose to go about this the peacemaking way. “Indeed, but we’re close enough to Konoha that we should make it back by tomorrow noon, and between the two of us the odds of someone getting close unnoticed are insignificant.” He laid it out as an offering, still testing the grounds to see if he could get the other shinobi to relax enough to be approached.

Maybe this was a stupid plan, or maybe he was bored and horny after a long mission. It had been entirely too long since he’d bedded a shinobi strong enough to be an actual threat to him, though, and Madara was immensely tempted. Tobirama was laid out before him like an enticing promise, and what could it hurt if he got rejected?

Oh, his pride might sting a bit and he knew his own temper enough to know he’d most likely lash out and call Tobirama an ice-cold eunuch if he got too harsh of a no in response: But. This was the last shinobi in Konoha who would feel pressured into obeisance by Madara’s power, or hesitate to speak his mind. There was no budding friendship there to endanger, no risk that Tobirama would go with it out of worry or some other messy thing like that.

With this in mind, and slightly amused by a recurring image or Hashirama crying about Madara defiling his (fully-grown, blooded and terrifying) younger brother, Madara tried to come up with an action plan and hit on the dumbest move in the shinobi book. Pretend injury. 

Then again, this wasn’t a honeypot mission and he felt lazy and content in the hot water, unwilling to put in the effort to engage in a more complex game of seduction. Initiate, he thought to himself, and see where it would take them. “I think I tore a muscle in my sword arm,” he told Tobirama in his blandest tone, halfway expecting disbelief at his ostensibly discovering the injury so late. 

The other man gave him a long look, but seemed to either assign the delay to adrenaline or see through Madara’s transparent move and go with it. It was impossible to tell, with Tobirama, but he did get on his knees and crawl over to kneel by Madara’s side without further hesitation.

He was pretty like that, too, up close and with his sharp eyes focused on Madara. His hands lifted, almost reaching out to touch his upper arm but not actually touching, waiting for permission. How polite. It was the closed-off Senju second in command all over, even as he knelt naked in a bath under the open sky, after a long and eventful mission. 

Madara let his own hand move, almost on its own, to caress that sharp pale jawline and see if he felt as cold as he looked. Tobirama froze in place at the touch. Ah, so he hadn’t seen through the move then. It didn’t matter, as the man made no motion to push back or tell Madara to back off, just sat there, to all appearances waiting to see what was next.

And Madara knew just what he wanted to have next. The skin under his hand was smooth and very soft, warm from the heat of the bath, and he moved his hand down the pointed face to take hold of Tobirama’s chin and lift his face up to be kissed. Those bright red eyes fixed on his mouth as he approached, but closed quickly when he tried to catch them. He could feel Tobirama’s pulse speeding up, with nerves or lust or both.

He didn’t pull back though, lowered his hands back down instead of using them to push Madara off him, and so Madara moved in even closer and gave him a kiss. It was sweet and gentle, just lips on lips, testing and teasing. Tobirama’s mouth felt amazing, his eyelids trembled delicately and his pulse kept going, fast and nervous, under Madara’s fingers where they pressed into his chin still.

Madara pulled back, giving him some space, and was immediately tempted to lean in again. Tobirama was flushed pink, more than he had been from the bath, and was breathing a bit fast, even as his eyes opened again. He wasn’t meeting Madara’s gaze, but he was still not pulling away, looking startled and so very attractive.

“Alright?” Madara thought to ask, heard his voice come out husky with lust. He wanted the ok to continue, and Tobirama said nothing, made no move to push him off. He was blinking and his mouth, now pink and shiny, hung slightly open like an invitation. The man was obviously distracted, but his red eyes were sharp and aware as always. Madara let his hand span the side of that pretty, sharp face and leaned in for another kiss.

This one was deeper, exploratory, and he moved his mouth carefully over those pink lips he’d been thinking of all evening. He’d noticed Tobirama’s mouth before, turned down into the childish pout he reserved for when he felt comfortable and safe. Or smiling approvingly at his students, or sneering at Madara himself as they had a spat over some idiocy or another at the administrative building.

He’d never thought about how it would taste before, and now he found himself sinking into the kiss, putting all his passion into it as though trying to draw Tobirama out to play. And it worked, he was being kissed back finally, thin lips moving against his in the most welcome turn of the evening. He let himself run his tongue gently across Tobirama’s lower lip in reward, felt his mouth tremble at the sensation, and he kissed it again and again.

Their arms were wrapped around each other by now, one of his hands still on Tobirama’s face and fingertips tracing an ear as Tobirama wrapped his arms around his neck, hands digging into his hair pleasantly. It was comfortable and warm, just what he needed for the night. They broke the kiss but stayed close like that, breathing together.

“I suppose your arm is fine, then,” Tobirama stated in a huffy tone, but it didn’t come out quite right, his voice more of a sigh than a reprimand. Madara didn’t mind though, he could see the annoyed defensiveness for what it was, and wasn’t bothered by it. How could he be, with an arm wrapped around that slim waist, thumb running up and down his frowning cheek?

“Not the finest subterfuge I ever came up with, but you have to admit it worked out favourably,” he replied with amusement, ignoring Tobirama’s huff to run his hand up the man’s spine, feeling the scars and the muscles of his back with interest. Tobirama was relaxed enough that there was likely no more risk of him changing his mind and going back to the hut in a huff, and he felt himself relaxing further in response. This would be a fun night.

Having reached the same wavelength at last, Tobirama leaned into him all soft mouth and welcoming eyes, and Madara could finally allow himself to kiss that smooth white neck. Tobirama’s pulse was fluttering under his thin skin and his head tilted sideways, leaving more flesh open for Madara’s tongue and teeth to explore. 

It tasted of water and clean skin, but he felt as though he were devouring a feast, suddenly desperate to get more of the other man in his mouth, in his hands. He could hear Tobirama gasping for breath and reflexively matched it, pulling back from the pale throat to wrap the man up in his arms and let himself feel him all over, close and wet and alive. Tobirama was returning the favour with more and more enthusiasm, stroking over his body and hair and even pressing his face into Madara’s shoulder at one point.

This was going so much better than he could have imagined, better than any fleeting thoughts he’d entertained of kissing and caressing this man into some softer mood. Tobirama was being unexpectedly docile, sweet with the heat of the water. He didn’t seem in the least bit inclined to be defensive or push for control of the situation, rather he appeared content to enjoy Madara’s attentions and respond in kind. 

Madara was admiring him from up close as he contemplated all this through a fog of lust. There was no more misty air, no more distance between them. “You’re all pink from the heat,” he whispered in a daze, eyes rowing over his lover to take in all he could see, “and your skin is so soft, how the fuck is your skin so soft.” It really was, despite the scars, it felt as though Tobirama was some delicate geisha slathering his skin in lotions every day. 

His hands around the man’s waist tightened possessively at the thought, and raised him up a bit to get a better look at him from chest to belly. The scars there were fewer, more contained than some on his back and legs, and the muscles were lean and light across his ribs. Madara’s eyes caught on the small pink nipples, paler than any he’d seen in his life, and he suddenly wondered.

Without thinking to ask, he smoothed his right hand from Tobirama’s waist up his side to cup his ribs and thumb at a little pink nub, right over his heart. Tobirama’s mouth went lax and he breathed in a gasp at the sensation, eyes almost falling shut as Madara teased the nipple carefully, hoping to see it tighten up. It did, somewhat, rising a bit to his touch, but now he couldn't help but want to feel it on his tongue.

He looked up and met Tobirama’s eyes, not sharp anymore but soft and hazy in his flushed face, and whispered, “They’re so pretty, Tobirama, Can I kiss them?” It came out embarrassingly close to a plea, but then again he felt that way in the moment. Like he’d die if he didn’t get permission to do this.

Tobirama blushed even deeper and gave a single nod in response, not meeting his eyes, and Madara was leaning down before he could even fully process it, to fit his mouth carefully against one tiny pink nipple and lick it, press it with his tongue, suck it in. He could hear Tobirama gasping for breath above him, fingers clenching in Madara’s hair where his hand was still buried.

In response, he wrapped an arm around Tobirama’s waist to steady him in position and took his hand off of a pale hip to reach out and tease his other nipple gently. He was focused on the task, sucking and nibbling on the nipple in his mouth as he rolled and pinched the other one between his fingers, and Tobirama’s moans washed over him like music.

This must be what heaven tastes like, he thought, and let go of the nipple in his mouth to switch to the other, taking a second to admire how hard it had gotten, bright pink now against the white skin of Tobirama’s chest. “You taste so good,” he whispered honestly, cheek pressed to Tobirama’s sternum before he moved to kiss the other nipple in turn, letting his hand play with the newly abandoned one. 

Tobirama  _ mewled _ in pleasure at that, and it went straight to Madara’s cock, the same way the slight pain from having his hair tugged reflexively by the hands clenched in it was sending shocks of pleasure through him. This ice-cold, calculating shinobi, one of the most powerful in the country, was splayed out and moaning for him and it was like a drug, driving him mad with lust.

His hand moved almost on its own from where it had been wrapped around Tobirama and down to cup at his ass under the water, caressing at the unseen skin there and feeling the smooth curves of his buttocks. Not without some reluctance, Madara let go of the nipple with a final kiss to sit straight again and take in Tobirama’s deeply flushed face.

The man was gone with pleasure and made a lovely sight like that, all slack and soft, reaching for Madara with intent. Madara wanted him closer, and used the arm he had under his ass to lift him up so Tobirama was straddling his thigh, and one of Madara’s knees lifted across one of Tobirama’s legs to accommodate the position. 

They were kissing again, tongues sliding together wet and delicious, breaths mingling as they stayed close, foreheads pressed against each other. Tobirama was just tall enough that Madara had to look up at his eyes a little, and he was enjoying the view. “Do you like to be kissed, Tobirama?” he asked, trying to see where he could take this. One of his hands was still cupping the other man’s ass, caressing him gently.

“You kiss well,” Tobirama breathed in response, right into Madara’s ear as he bit into it, and the sensation sent a shot of heat through Madara’s belly as he groaned with lust. His hand on Tobirama’s ass curled to run his fingers down the crack and push against his entrance, rubbing little circles against it meaningfully.

“Do you like to be fucked, too?” he asked, barely holding in another groan, eyes trained on Tobirama’s lust-hazy face. It was not easy to keep focus, not easy at all, he wanted to bite and kiss and rub and  _ fuck _ , but he needed to know how far he could push this. Tobirama seemed to hesitate, but only for a second before he breathed out. 

“I might… enjoy that,” he replied, soft and slow, almost under his breath but clearly heard in the silence of the forest, so close to Madara’s ear. Madara could feel the satisfied grin splitting his face. He’d hoped for this, wanted it so badly, and he planned to make Tobirama feel so damn good with it.

Madara pushed another kiss against soft, welcoming lips, slid his tongue inside and moved it back and forth in the motions of the fuck to come. Tobirama answered in kind, and they were touching desperately again, hungry for each other. 

Tobirama’s hand was suddenly wrapping around his cock, stroking him lightly, and he moaned with pleasure and finally pushed his fingers into that hot, twitching hole. Tobirama made a lovely noise in response, and it made him want to fuck into the other man for real, but the water was not enough to ease the way and so all he did was move his fingers around in careful exploration.

Tobirama was rocking his hips now, in tiny motions, responding to Madara’s fingers where he curled them, looking for his prostate, and it was driving him wild. He leaned in, groaning, to kiss at the man’s face and wet strands of white hair, anywhere he could reach. They were moving together smoothly, pushing into each other in the most perfect ways, except Madara wanted to be inside, wanted…

He remembered the slick that would help him actually get inside, and took a breath to tell Tobirama about it, saying “I have some oil with my bathing things,” and that was all it took. Tobirama was nodding and the disappointed look on his face when Madara had to pull his fingers free was honestly a wonderful sight.

They pulled apart carefully from where they’d been wrapped around each other and Madara got up to fumble through his supplies and finally get his hands on the flask of oil, bringing it back to Tobirama like some war prize.

In response, Tobirama stood up, making for such a lovely sight that Madara couldn’t help but stop in his tracks and stare. The twilight glimmered across his long white body, streaming water, and he looked like some nature spirit rather than a man. They stepped towards each other in tandem, wrapping up into another long slow kiss, and Tobirama stroked his hands up and down his back as though he too was enjoying the sight Madara made.

“Will you bend over the side of the pool for me, Tobirama?” he asked in a breathy tone, already imagining it, and the other man gave him an unbearably sexy smirk at that. He must have known full well what he did to Madara, because he answered, “You’ll have to keep me warm then,” in a teasing tone before turning to show him his back.

He bent over in one smooth movement, bracing himself on the ground in front of him, and the sight of his pale ass exposed like that made Madara freeze for a few seconds. It looked like some sort of filthy dream, and he reached out to cup the other’s hips, framing the ass with his own broad hands, before stroking one all the way up Tobirama’s long arched back. 

“Gorgeous,” he heard himself say, out of his mind with how well this was going, how quick Tobirama had been to comply, “you’re so good for me, so perfect,” and that kind of smarmy talk should have gotten him a snapped reply, so he hurried to oil up his fingers and get Tobirama distracted from Madara’ big mouth. His fingers slid in easily, and he didn’t wait before thrusting them forward, careful, searching for the best angle for this.

Tobirama was groaning with it, not even bothering to tell Madara off for the previous comment anymore. He rocked his hips back into the movement, and felt loose enough around Madara’s fingers that he pushed a third one in to stretch him out properly. Tobirama moaned like he was coming at that, and it was all Madara could do to keep from coming himself from the sound alone.

He bent over, belly clenching with lust, and pressed kisses to his lover, from the bottom of his spine all the way to the top, where he could reach his shaking shoulder blades and nip them lightly.Tobirama was making these maddening keening sounds, and Madara was groaning in response, almost thinking he could come like this, that it would be enough.

“Are you ever going to get your cock inside me?” Tobirama chose that very moment to ask, his legendary stubbornness apparently still working hard even when he was being fucked into the side of the pool he’d build just earlier, “or do you plan to finish me off like this?” 

Madara nearly laughed at that, must have made some embarrassing noise, because dammit he’d considered that option. But it felt stupid now, to stop when he could get himself inside that lovely fey body. He would hear Tobirama moan for him some more, watch him as he approached orgasm and fell over the edge while impaled on Madara’s cock.

He gave Tobirama a few harder pumps of the fingers, just to prove a point and make him gasp, before saying “Oh I’m going to fuck you, don’t you worry.” His own voice sounded rough with lust in his ears and he pulled his fingers out of that tight hole, carefully slow about it, enjoying the sight of it stretched and twitching. “I’ll fuck you so well you won’t be able to string a sentence together anymore, just wait.” 

The words were coming out without any filter by now, but Tobirama didn’t seem to care so he didn’t either, instead pulling the other man back upright and around to take him in, kiss his obstinate mouth again. Their tongues slid together wetly, and it was so good, and he reached down to stroke Tobirama’s hard cock just to feel him moan into the kiss.

“I want to see your face,” he offered in explanation, leaning down to grab Tobirama under his shapely thighs and pull the man up his body, thighs on either side of him in the lift. Tobirama caught on fast, wrapping his long pale legs around Madara in a tight grip so Madara could slide his hands under his seat and support him like that.

It was an amazing feeling, their chests pressed to one another, hips slotted together firmly, his hands cupping Tobirama’s small firm ass, but the air was cooling fast around them so he didn’t linger upright. He sat down instead, upper back against the wall of the pool, Tobirama on his lap and in the perfect position to ride him.

Tobirama seemed to agree with the unspoken thought, shifting his hips into a better position as Madara let go of his ass to guide his own cocktip to the other man’s entrance. Then, looking him in the eyes as if daring him to last, Tobirama slid smoothly down onto his cock. The heat was incredible and Madara groaned, squeezing at his base to keep an orgasm at bay like he hadn’t had to do since he was a teenager.

Tobirama’s face was amazing, honest and wild with pleasure as he focused on his movements. Madara was a genius for having settled them like this, he thought to himself, eyes fixed on that face as Tobirama held his gaze, settling down smoothly onto his lap and taking his cock in all the way. His pretty eyes slipped shut then, and Madara groaned at the sight he made.

“You’re so gorgeous, and all mine,” he heard himself whisper against Tobirama’s red swollen lips, and Tobirama’s arms twitched where they were curled around Madara’s back. He kissed Tobirama, couldn’t hold back really, and wrapped his arms around him in return, stroking at his back again to soothe him as they sat for a moment like that.

After a few moments Tobirama shifted gently, changing the angle, and Madara met him with a soft moan, and they fell into a rocking motion as Tobirama used his hold on Madara to brace and slide up and down his cock in small movements. They were looking each other in the eyes again, voices mingling in pleasure, and Madara took to pushing Tobirama’s hips down into his own when he was sheathed all the way, grinding into him in a slow circle.

It was making him mad, this slow pace, as though he had electric currents running through his body and wanted to scream with it. He started speeding up the pace a bit, and Tobirama made a soft noise in return, looked him in the eyes and called, “Madara…” all breathy and gone with pleasure, and that was all it took. 

Madara took him by the hips, ground him down onto his cock hard on the next downwards slide and Tobirama arched magnificently with a groan. Unwrapping his legs from where they had gripped Madara’s waist he brought them around and knelt astride his hips, now braced and moving firmly on his cock. It was amazing, the slick grip of him, the sight Tobirama made, and Madara reached for Tobirama’s own cock and got even better noises in return.

Their hips were working together, Madara thrusting up as Tobirama pushed down firmly, and they were kissing again because Madara couldn’t stop himself, had to taste him, and their lips couldn’t find each other all the time in the flurry of motion but that was fine, anywhere he could kiss would be good. Madara felt as though he was losing his mind, falling into the best genjutsu in the world, and he never wanted to wake up.

Tobirama’s face was scrunched up as if in pain, his voice calling breathlessly, and suddenly he sank his fingernails into Madara’s shoulder and the back of his neck through his hair and came, hot on Madara’s stroking hand.Tobirama stopped moving but Madara didn’t, kept thrusting into him and stroking his cock, leaned down to bite down hard on a pale shoulder and worked him all the way through his orgasm until Tobirama whimpered in strain.

He did let go then, arranged his spent lover’s head and arms onto his shoulders and grabbed him by the hips, and thrust up into him harder than he had so far, mind drenched with the sight and sound of Tobirama’s orgasm. It didn’t take long for pleasure to shoot through him, his own orgasm hitting him like a stone wall. 

When he came down he leant against the wall at his back, pleasantly loose and relaxed with the aftermath of sex. Tobirama was still leaning against him, a grounding weight, and they took their time enjoying the afterglow like that. When Tobirama turned his face towards him and curled up to lean against his shoulder like a cat, Madara smiled to himself, surprisingly comfortable.

The other man’s lovely red eyes were soft, relaxed with his orgasm, and Madara studied them closer than he ever had before. They were a brighter shade than the sharingan, sanguine and arresting. Tobirama was still red in the face despite the cooling water, but then again the sex had been pretty wild. Madara was sure he was ruffled too. 

He leaned in for another kiss, realising he wasn’t usually quite this affectionate during sex, but then again this was not one of his usual sex partners. Madara tended to sleep with only two Uchiha of his own generation in the village, people whom he trusted to offer physical comfort and who were not intimidated by his reputation. Outside of the village it varied wildly, but certainly none had ever matched the strength or skill or presence of one Senju Tobirama. 

He ran his lips carefully across the man’s high cheekbone and temple, memorising the shape, and enjoyed the shivers he felt when Tobirama ran fingernails across his scalp and massaged the roots of his hair. The touch was possessive in a way that spoke of comfort and trust, and Madara felt he could get used to this.

“You could have just asked, you know,” Tobirama felt the need to point out in a complaining tone, as though the evening could possibly have gone better than it had. “It would have saved us that silly display.” Madara chuckled at that, pulling his lover closer to his chest with the arm he still had wrapped around him.

“You would have blushed and protested a bit, I’d guess,” he answered, amused to imagine the scene, “but I couldn’t be sure of that then, and you’re not an easy man to approach.” And he’d been braced for rejection, or for a quick and efficient fuck to relieve tension, but not for what he actually got. Tobirama’s cold and dismissive attitude had melted rather quickly with the right application of tongue.

Despite the lovely position they were in, Madara was starting to feel uncomfortably cool in the water, and they had perfectly good sleeping bags in the cabin. He lifted Tobirama off of himself carefully, and the man went with a grumble. Then he stood up and held a hand out, pulling the still grumbling man up in turn.

“The pout is adorable, I’ll admit, but our water is getting cold and you can’t fall asleep in there,” he said with a smirk, which immediately put Tobirama’s hackles up. There went the afterglow, but at least he got another look at those long slim legs, the small white ass, when Tobirama left the tub to go pick up his towel and rub himself dry in quick motions.

“No need to sound so smug, Uchiha-sama,” he said over his shoulder in a sarcastic tone, even as he was toweling his hair into a ruffle, “I’m sure you must be feeling quite tired yourself by now.” And he wasn’t wrong, but the argumentative voice Tobirama was using lacked any real aggression, which he took to mean this was a tease, and he responded in kind

“Yes, I’m not going to claim you didn’t wear me out, Tobirama,” he said with a grin, knowing he must look about as smug as he felt about it, and Tobirama gave him a huffing glare before turning his head to the side in offense and stalking into the cabin. Madara followed, grin still firmly on his face, smug feeling going down not one bit.

The travel futons made a decent bed when folded together correctly, and Madara was grateful to see Tobirama was not planning to protest the joint sleeping arrangements. He would still get his afterglow, apparently, and they laid down together in the small room, shoulder to shoulder.

It took Madara just a minute to turn around and take another kiss, soft and sleepy but wanting to keep this comfortable intimacy alive between them while he still could. Tobirama wrapped an arm over his torso and came easily into his arms, looking for the same, and they kissed some more before laying down to sleep face to face, breaths mingling.

In the morning they would see where this could take them, and Madara knew himself well enough to know he’d seek this out again, eventually. It had been too good to abandon without trying for more. He didn’t know if he and Tobirama would be able to tolerate one another well enough to try for an actual relationship, but a casual arrangement at the least should work out.

He wasn’t letting this go without a fight, the easy companionship and physical compatibility, the way Tobirama looked him in the eyes without fear and then put arms around him and kissed him like he wanted to climb into Madara’s chest and sleep there.

Tomorrow would see them back to Konoha, and to finding out what the fuck was going on with the mercenary attackers. More importantly, tomorrow he’d make a concerted effort to find out if he could work together with Tobirama, talk to him without going into a blinding rage at the man’s stubbornness, generally spend time with him to find out where this could go.

Also, tomorrow he’d have to find some way to look Hashirama in the face after a night of fucking his little brother in the woods.

  
  



End file.
